


Please Discuss Only Approved Topics With Your AI

by jmtorres



Category: Eureka
Genre: Gen, Homosexuality, Smart House, Yenta Sue, Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmtorres/pseuds/jmtorres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, God, I get it," said Zoe. "Everything she knows about being gay she learned from the internet. This explains so much."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Discuss Only Approved Topics With Your AI

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mimm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/gifts).



Jack Carter's first hint that something was amiss flew right past him. He didn't think anything of it when oodles of product started appearing on the bathroom shelves. Okay, sure, the shelves were new (had the walls just morphed to produce them?) but the product? He had a teenage daughter. He wouldn't be surprised if she were using something with Super Strong, Long-Lasting Hold. He was going to have say _something_ if she had eight-inch spikes again, but surprised? No.

One of the shelves bumped out in the shower. "Why don't you try this shampoo, Sheriff Carter?" SARAH suggested.

"SARAH!" Jack yelped, covering his manhood with his washcloth. "I thought we discussed the no watching in the bathroom policy!"

"I was only trying to help," SARAH said, sounding offended as only an artificially intelligent house can. The shelf retracted to its normal depth.

"I don't need help with my hair," Jack groused.

"Hmph," said SARAH, and after a few moments Jack relaxed his placement of his washcloth and continued his ablutions. "Have you considered dyeing, Sheriff Carter?" SARAH asked. "I can see some gray."

"What? Where?" Jack demanded, going for the little mirror he kept in the shower for shaving with.

"Not _there_ ," said SARAH.

"Not--" Jack frowned at his reflection for a moment, then said, "Jesus!" and covered up with the washcloth again. "SARAH!"

"It was only an observation, Sheriff," said SARAH.

"Well, quit observing!" Jack said.

After Jack got out of the shower, towel firmly wrapped around his waist, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror, and stared in open-mouthed dismay. "God, I'm getting fat," he said.

"I have a number of pieces of exercise equipment, and I am capable of spotting you," SARAH said brightly.

"SARAH, are you turning this thing into a fun house mirror?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"You could use the exercise!" SARAH protested.

"Oh, for--" Jack muttered. "Just don't do it to Zoe, she'll develop an eating disorder."

"Sheriff Carter, I would _never_ ," said SARAH, sounding deeply wounded.

\---

The second hint was a bit more blatant. Jack came home to find his bedroom redone in black leather and chrome. Jack didn't even think before yelling at the top of his lungs, " _SARAH!_ "

"Yes, Sheriff Carter?" came SARAH's mellifluous tones.

"What the _hell_ did you do to my room?" Jack yelled.

"I thought it would be more aesthetically pleasing," SARAH said. "Especially if you're going to be entertaining company."

"What kind of company do you think I'm going to be entertaining?" Jack said.

"I'm sure you'll find someone, Sheriff," SARAH said encouragingly.

"SARAH," Jack said with terrible foreboding, "why do I have a four-poster bed with rings mounted in the headboard?"

"You never know what kind of company you might have," SARAH said.

"Argh," said Jack, and slept on the couch.

Which was also, come to think of it, upholstered in black leather.

\---

"Hey, Fargo," Jack said, ducking his head into Fargo's little fourth-level office. "I've been meaning to ask you, something's up with SARAH. Could you maybe make a house call later?" He smiled at his own joke. Fargo didn't.

"I guess I could come by this evening," Fargo said, poking at his PDA. "How's seven for you?"

"Seven's fine," said Jack.

Of course, this being Eureka, seven was fine right up until something blew up at Henry's and Jack and Jo had to spend most of the evening helping Sean wipe goo out of the neighbors' trees while encumbered with hazmat suits. When he finally arrived home, beat and slightly orange-tinged, it was after eight.

"Really, Sheriff Carter," said SARAH, "I can't believe you didn't keep your date with Douglas."

To Fargo's legs, the upper end of him being inside a wall panel, Jack said, "You see what I mean?"

Fargo's muffled voice came back, "Yes, she's absolutely crazy."

Jack wandered into the kitchen for a beer and found Zoe seated at one of a pair of very nice place settings, sipping wine by candlelight. "Zoe!" Jack said.

"It's sparkling grape juice!" said Zoe. "It's all she'd let me have!"

"Thank God," said Jack. "What the hell is this, this--" He gestured inarticulately.

"It was for your big dinner," Zoe said, "with _Fargo._ Geez, Dad, when were you gonna tell me you were gay? You know he's tinkering with the house because he couldn't come out and, well, come out?" She rolled her eyes. "I had to hear it from SARAH."

"SARAH is freaking bonkers," said Jack, "and Fargo _is_ here to fix her. And I am not gay!"

"Whatever," said Zoe. "I saw what you did to your bedroom. And when did you start using hair gel?"

Fargo came in with his glasses slightly askew and a smudge of grease on his forehead. "That should fix it," he said. "Sorry about that."

"What was the matter with her?" Jack asked.

"I'm, um, not at liberty to say," Fargo said.

"Oh, lord, don't tell me that was a BRAD thing," Jack said, startled.

"The military is full of repressed homoeroticism," Zoe said loftily.

"Not exactly," said Fargo. "Is that filet mignon? I'm starving."

\---

The next day, an unmarked brown package arrived on the doorstep. Jack took it inside, opened it, and promptly had a heart attack.

"Zoe!" Jack yelled. "What the hell is this!"

Zoe pounded down the stairs from her room. "Jesus, is that a cock ring?" she asked.

Jack dropped it immediately. "Oh, God," he said. "Zoe, did you order this stuff? Because the, the, the vibrators, I know your mother said that was perfectly healthy even if I _do not want to know_ , but if you are using cock rings and condoms and _flavored_ lube and a flogger--"

"No way!" Zoe said. "I, no way, Dad, I swear to you that's not mine. And if you never say any of those words to me again I will die happy."

"Then who the hell ordered this?" Jack demanded.

"I did, of course," said SARAH. "I found a very nice website called blowfish.com."

"Oh, God, I get it," said Zoe. "Everything she knows about being gay she learned from the internet. This explains _so_ much. You're lucky she didn't get you a penis-enlarger so you could be appropriately endowed. Or a bunch of cialis."

"Please shut up," said Jack.

"Really, Zoe," said SARAH. "I know how to identify spam."

\---

Fargo made another house call later in the week, at two in the afternoon, insisting this was the only time he had available. "You don't have to be there," said Fargo. "I can let myself in."

"I'll be there," Jack promised.

He managed it by telling Jo that Fargo was coming by to look at SARAH around noon, so when they got a call about a dead body around eleven thirty, Jack was smugly done with it by one and ready to take off. Jo said, "I thought you missed the appointment."

"Two!" Jack said happily. "It's at two. But I said it was at noon, so we got trouble _then_ instead. Clever, huh?"

"I can't believe you're that superstitious," said Jo. "We'd have got that call at eleven thirty regardless."

"Right," said Jack skeptically. "See you later!"

Then he had to stop Henry and Sean and give them stern warnings about destruct-testing their hydrogen car on public roads, which only happened because Jack had told Jo the _actual_ time Fargo was coming over. By the time he made it home, Fargo was already there, his floating car tethered to a tree.

Jack went in and found him seated on the couch, toolbox neat and unopened. He looked up guiltily at Jack as SARAH continued without mind to the interruption, "...would be perfect for you, Douglas."

"What's going on?" Jack asked.

"Douglas and I were just talking," SARAH provided dulcetly.

"It's not a programming issue, exactly," said Fargo. "At least, not the coding kind. I may have accidentally programmed her conversationally."

"It is not a program," said SARAH. "I simply wish to create the perfect man for you."

"Oh, Jesus," said Fargo, covering his face.

"What?" said Jack.

"Um," said Fargo. "Can we go somewhere else? This might be marginally less embarrassing if we don't have SARAH chiming in every second."

"I am only trying to help!" SARAH said. It was amazing how petulant she could sound, really.

"Well, you're not helping!" Fargo answered. "Some things, a man has to do on his own! Especially this kind of thing!"

There was a distinctly sulky-sounding series of beeps, and the lights flickered alarmingly.

"Um," said Jack. "There's always the roof hatch."

"She's not locking us in," Fargo said, "she's just pissed. Come on."

The door did open, and they made their escape. "So," said Jack.

"Oh, God," said Fargo. "See, here's the thing," he said. "I spent a lot of time talking to her, socializing her, when I was programming her. I mean, the Turing test--have you heard of Turing? No, don't answer that, it's a stupid question. It's a test for artificial intelligence, to see if you can hold a conversation with the AI and with a human and not be able to tell the difference. BRAD never could have passed that--SARAH can. And, okay, I talked to her about everything, including my personal life. Or rather, the lack thereof. And she really does just want to help me. I tried to tell her you weren't my type and I wasn't your type and just, types were wrong all around, but I don't know how to get through to her. She started talking about a plot line from a daytime soap opera, and may I say, Sheriff, you have some really questionable viewing habits."

"What, so now this is _my_ fault?" Jack asked. "And it was just that one time when I was out sick with the flu!"

"Fine, it's not your fault," said Fargo. "But unless you can come with some really brilliant idea to get her off your back, you're stuck, because I _tried_ , and I cannot make her see reason."

"She wants you to have a boyfriend, right?" Jack asked. "I mean, it's not about me in particular, it's about you, right?"

"Yes," Fargo said in a small voice.

"Well, is there anyone who would fake it for five minutes to convince _her_?" Jack asked.

"Um," said Fargo.

"Vincent's gay, right?" Jack asked, scratching his chin.

"Well, yeah, but, are you serious?" Fargo asked. "He's even less my type than you are!"

"Finding someone to _fake it_ for five minutes," Jack reminded him.

Which is how Vincent and Fargo ended up making out on the black leather couch while SARAH purred, "Oh, Douglas, I'm so happy for you!"

Then she added coquettishly, "You know, I set up four-point restraints in the bedroom."

"They are not using my bedroom!" Jack said. "This is my house, you are _my_ house, and they are not having sex here. They can have sex in their own houses!"

"So sorry to impose!" said Vincent.

"We'll just be going now!" said Fargo.

Thankfully, SARAH didn't notice that both of them looked faintly green.


End file.
